A Bit of Mist
by IFoundYouJustineTime
Summary: Eight year old Kurt visits his mother's grave long after his father stops. But he finds he's not alone. There's a young ghost boy who's been watching.


A little fic written for Halloween. Please leave comments!

**Warning: Major Character Death**

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**A Bit of Mist**

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The ground was covered in leaves. They were piled up high in mounds all along the path as if someone had been trying to rake them before giving up and letting the rest of them stay strewn on the cold grass. They crunched and crackled as a squirrel scampered past, away from Kurt's approaching feet.

He wound his way through the rows and rows of grey stone, dandelions he'd picked at the side of the road were clasped in his little eight year old fingers before finally his feet stopped in front of a pretty marble headstone.

He stared at it, his eyes fixed on only a few letters. His mother's name. **Elizabeth Hummel**. It was the first time he'd been here alone, having accompanied his father every single time before. But his dad hadn't come today so Kurt had to remember where the plot was on his own and make do with weeds instead of a proper bouquet of flowers. He placed his dandelions in front of the stone, next to the wilting roses that were already there. Then he plopped down to the leafy grass.

He stretched himself out over the plot where only a few weeks ago he'd watched the coffin being lowered. She was there, beneath him, and he closed his eyes and tried to forget the cold dirt and grass, imagining he was laying his head on her chest and feeling her heart beat. He missed her so much it was like a piece of lead had replaced his heart, weighing him down so that it was the only thing he could think of.

He wasn't sure how long he was there, tears flowing down his face. But then something like a breeze passed over him, prompting him to blink his eyes open.

A pair of wide, white eyes stared back at him.

Kurt screamed and scrambled up and away quickly. The- boy?- all white and misty but vaguely shaped like a young boy, darted away into a patch of trees even as Kurt turned and ran down the hill.

Kurt spent many days just idling by the gate at the bottom of the hill, too scared to walk the path back to where the… thing… had been. Maybe he'd imagined it? He'd been feeling so lonely, maybe he'd been lonely enough to imagine a person. Or maybe there'd really been someone there. Someone pale as snow who moved like a feather through the air.

He'd never know standing here.

Slowly he trecked back up the path. He shook all over and his fingers fidgeted uncontrollably in front of him until, at last, he was standing in front of the big headstone once more. As always, his eyes fixed on only one point, his mother's name, carved beautifully into the marble. **Elizabeth Hummel**.

Then he looked around nervously, waiting for something to happen. Time stretched on and everything was quiet. Then someone moved in the corner of his vision.

He looked around but, still,there was no one there but him. Everything was quiet and calm. He couldn't even make out the cars going by down the hill.

But then movement caught his eye again. He whipped his head around and managed to make out a wispy bit of something disappearing behind a tree. A shiver ran down Kurt's spine. He wanted to run like before, but it was like he'd been paralyzed to the spot.

He watched the tree as the little wisp emerged again, except this time it was clearly a shape. The pale face of a young boy poked out from behind the trunk, and Kurt recognized the two big eyes from the day before.

As soon as he saw Kurt looking back the boy gasped and hid once more. Kurt realized that the boy had also run away last time. He was scared. Somehow knowing this made Kurt feel better. He continued to watch the tree as his nerves ebbed away. But the boy didn't emerge.

Kurt, unsure of what to do, turned his head and focused his eyes back on the tombstone in front of him. He now realized that the roses had been arranged to look nicer but his dandelions were gone. He only spared a moment of annoyance on this before looking over again to the tree.

And there were those eyes. But once again they popped out of sight. Curiosity was starting to bubble inside of Kurt, replacing every other concern. He didn't think he'd seen this boy before. Not all the times he'd been to this spot by his father's side. So why was he here now?

He tried speaking up.

"Hello?" No answer. Kurt wet his lips and tried again. "Hello?"

"Hello," said a timid voice. For some reason, even though it was so weak, the sound of it still seemed warm to Kurt and he took a step toward the tree where it had come from.

"What's your name?" he asked.

Slowly, very slowly, the eyes emerged. "My name is Blaine," said the boy shyly.

Kurt took a few more baby steps forward. "Kurt," he said.

Blaine smiled softly but stayed where he was.

"Why are you hiding?" Kurt asked.

Blaine shrugged. "You… you screamed. It scared me."

"I'm sorry," said Kurt sincerely. He walked closer so that he was only a few feet from the tree. "I just didn't know you were there. Why were you there anyway?"

"You were crying," said Blaine, his voice sad. He leaned out more from behind the tree and up close now Kurt realized the boy was about his age, maybe a little younger. "And you were alone."

"You're a ghost, aren't you?" asked Kurt.

Blaine nodded.

"Aren't you supposed to be scary?"

"No," said Blaine, disappearing behind the tree. "It's everyone else that's scary. The others. They pick on me and yell at me."

Kurt felt his heart ache for the ghost boy. "I'm sorry. I promise I won't yell. And I won't scream again."

Blaine's face phased through the trunk of the tree so that all Kurt saw were his white eyes blinking through the bark. "Do you want to see the old church? There's chipmunks inside."

Kurt smiled and nodded. "Yeah."

A small white hand poked through the tree and extended out for Kurt to grab. He reached forward and tried to grasp it but his fingers went straight through. "Oh," he said sadly. "I can't, I'm sorry."

He looked up and saw Blaine looking at him in surprise. "I'm sorry," said Blaine, "I thought maybe… but… that's okay… just follow me okay?"

Kurt nodded his head and Blaine smiled wide before leading the way farther up the hill to where the church was.

The following days were filled with Kurt trekking after Blaine across the acres of graves to every little nook that the spectre boy had made his own. They explored the forest, played hide and seek around the mausoleums, and Kurt even found himself laughing out loud without even realizing it. Blaine laughed too and Kurt loved it way it made his transparent eyes crinkle up. They even attempted tag a few times which involved them having to pass right through each other to convince the other they were it.

There were other ghosts in the graveyard. Kurt always saw them from from a distance because Blaine would keep them as far away as possible, telling Kurt that all they ever did was bully people.

Occasionally the groundskeeper would go about his business in the cemetery, but he was rude and nasty. He never spoke to Kurt and usually just ignored him, shivering and cursing as he did his work. He obviously didn't even know Blaine was there, since Kurt figured seeing a ghost would have made him scream like Kurt had.

Kurt hated him. Especially since he would always clean away the dandelions Kurt left at his mother's grave. Even when Kurt yelled and cried the man would only glare in his direction with wild eyes before hastily gathering the yellow weeds and taking them away.

Blaine would always be there, whispering in Kurt's ear, telling him that it was okay, they'd just pick more flowers. Blaine made it better. He made everything better. And slowly, day by day, Kurt felt the weight lifting from his chest.

Kurt's dad had finally come back to visit. Kurt was happy to have him there again. Even though he had Blaine with him he still missed his family. He missed his mom so badly. And he missed his dad too. He missed playing with him like they used to. He missed laughing with him. He missed spending time. He hardly spent any time with his dad anymore.

Kurt walked right beside his dad as they made their way up the hill. It was getting colder and Kurt could see how his dad hugged himself to keep out the wind. Or maybe he was imagining hugging Kurt's mom. Kurt wished he could offer a hug instead. But he knew it wouldn't be the same. He wasn't his mom. She was gone. And Kurt's dad didn't even have a glance to spare for him as they walked.

They reached the headstone and Kurt read the name yet again. His dad reached into his pocket and pulled something out. A small picture in a frame. He leaned it against the marble and when he stepped back Kurt could see that it was a picture of them all together. Him, his dad, and his mom.

For a long time they stood there silently. Then Kurt heard sobs and he looked up to see his dad crying.

"I'm trying," his dad choked out. "I'm trying so hard."

Kurt felt his heart grow heavy for his dad. It had to be so tough for him. "It's okay," he said. "It's okay dad."

"I just don't know if I can do it. I… but I know I have to for you…"

Then he turned and headed back down the bath. Kurt followed feeling more distant from his dad than ever before. Was he just a burden to his father? The thought made him want to curl up and never move. He wanted his mom back so badly. He wanted his family back the way it was before.

They were sitting on the old worn out floor of the church. Between them was one of their chipmunks, chewing happily on one of the acorns they'd found out in the woods. Kurt let his gaze lift up to the ghost boy across from him. He watched the way his features seemed to come and go in and out of the misty white. When he first met Blaine, he'd seemed so sad and his voice had been soft and weak. But now he smiled almost all the time. His voice was confident, honeyd and strong. He even liked to sing.

Earlier that morning they'd been out on one of the paths and Blaine had started singing. A few little birds in the trees joined in. Kurt watched happily and told Blaine that he was like Snow White. Blaine's eyes crinkled and his cheeks glowed. Kurt thought maybe that's what ghosts did instead of blushing.

The chipmunk finished his acorn and looked between Kurt and Blaine obviously hoping to get another. Both boys laughed and Blaine presented another acorn for the little guy to take. The chipmunk eagerly took the nut out of Blaine's palm and started munching away once more.

Kurt looked at Blaine again and dared to ask him the question he'd been too afraid to until now.

"Does it hurt?" he asked.

Blaine's eyes met his, looking a bit startled. "What?"

"Dying… does it hurt to die."

The smile Kurt loved so much faded away from Blaine's face as looked down at the floor.

"I just… I want to know if it hurt her," said Kurt.

"What happened?" asked Blaine.

Kurt chewed his lip. It was something he tried not to remember. It was all loud terrible noises and flickering lights. "We were in the car. And… I don't remember what happened exactly but we crashed… and when I woke up my dad was crying. Nothing I said or did could make him stop. He wasn't in the car. He'd been home waiting for us…"

"Kurt…" Blaine reached out, his hand passing through Kurt's. Kurt could see the frustration in his eyes and understood it well. It wasn't the first time he wished they could touch. He longed so badly to feel the touch of Blaine's hand, or the feel of his arms around him. He needed those touches. "Kurt, she probably didn't feel anything. I know she didn't. I didn't."

"How did you…?"

Blaine sighed. He curled up, pulling his knees to his chest before speaking. "It was a unicorn. It was my mommy's. It was so pretty and gold and shiny. I wanted to play with it but mommy always said no. She put it up on top of her shelf so I couldn't get it. But I wanted it so when she wasn't looking I climbed up to get it. I.. I think I slipped. I only remember feeling like I was falling."

"I'm sorry," said Kurt.

Blaine shook his head. "I was stupid."

Kurt frowned, feeling sorry for Blaine. But he had another burning question. "Why are you a ghost?"

Blaine shrugged. "I just was here. I didn't even know I was dead in the beginning."

"Does everyone become a ghost?" asked Kurt, wondering if maybe his mom was somewhere. Maybe he could see her again.

Blaine shook his head. "I don't no… I think… no… there are some… I've seen them. They're like ghosts but then they get away. People come and take them away."

"People?" asked Kurt. "Scary people?"

"No. Nice ones. They always smile."

Kurt thought about this. "There's no one you can go with?"

Blaine shook his head. "I'm always alone… but… but now I'm not. Now you're here." He smiled and Kurt couldn't help but smile too.

The chipmunk was begging for food again. This time Kurt held out a nut. The little mammal snatched it out of his fingers and stuffed it into his cheek, making it bulge out comically before he scampered away.

They laughed so hard they ended up on the floor rolling and holding their stomachs happily. Kurt had never had a friend like Blaine. Even though Blaine wasn't even alive. As they calmed down and caught their breath Kurt wiggled closer and with sudden boldness he leaned in and kissed where Blaine's cheek was.

He knew Blaine couldn't feel it. But the ghost boy still froze and his hand went to the spot where Kurt's lips had been. Kurt laughed again and so did Blaine.

Above them the old church bell rang out gently for the first time in years.

It was late when the boys showed up. Right away Kurt didn't like them. They were loud and they trampled across the graves without any care. Tall, awkward, and wearing bulky jackets, Kurt guessed they were Lima high schoolers. He watched with Blaine as they stumbled around, laughing and jeering at each other. They ripped flowers and flags off of stones as they went, scattering the offerings to the ground with a joy that made Kurt sick.

Then Kurt realized they were heading for his mother's stone. He moved to follow but Blaine shot in front of him.

"Let's go Kurt. Let's hide in the church. C'mon."

"We've got to stop them," said Kurt.

"No we don't. It's okay."

Kurt watched as they walked right down the row where his mom was buried. "They're going to hurt her."

"They're not Kurt. That's not your mom. Please listen. They can't really hurt her."

"I don't care!" cried Kurt. "I won't let them near her." He rushed straight through Blaine and with surprising speed he reached the boys as they came upon his mother's grave.

One of the boys was leaning right against it.

"Get away from her!" Kurt screamed.

Not one of them listened or even looked in Kurt's direction. The boy leaning against the stone started to fumble with his jeans.

"Man, I've gotta piss."

Anger and fear rose inside of Kurt. Without thinking he barreled forward to shove the boy away-

-and went straight through him.

The boy screamed and jumped back from where he'd been slouching. "What the fuck was that?" he yelled out.

"What's wrong?" asked another boy.

"Shit, I felt something."

The other boys laughed. Kurt turned and looked around in shock trying to understand what was happening. He was right in the middle of the boys but none of them looked at him. Were they ghosts like Blaine? Were they ghosts that didn't know they were ghosts? But they seemed solid.

One of the boys leaned over and picked up the picture frame. "Look at this thing."

Kurt snatched the photo out of his hands and clutched it to his chest. "Go away!" he shouted. All the boys gasped and took a step back.

"Are you doing that?"

"No! What the fuck!"

"Seriously, stop!"

"I'm not doing it!"

Their shouting was making Kurt's head hurt and anger filled his little body more than ever. "Go away!" he screamed. "Go away! Leave us alone!"

The wind kicked up blowing harshly in the trees making them hiss and rattle as all the leaves lifted from the ground and swirled in the air.

The boys fled down the hill all screaming and swearing even as the wind continued to spin around Kurt.

"Kurt!"

It was Blaine's voice but Kurt was curled up in himself still clutching the photo of his family, his eyes shut and trying to block everything out.

"Kurt, stop. Stop, it's okay," his voice was in Kurt's ear and Kurt let out a whimper.

"What's happening? Blaine, what's happening?"

"It's okay. It's okay."

"Blaine, Blaine, make it stop."

"I can't. You have to."

Kurt got up and started down the hill as the wind continued to blow.

"Where are you going?"

"I'm going home!" cried Kurt. "I wanna go home."

"You can't!" said Blaine. "Kurt, stop."

But Kurt didn't listen. Kurt tore down the hill. He just wanted to be home. He wanted his mom and dad. But when he reached the gate to the street something stopped him. He looked around but there was nothing there. Nothing at all. No people. No cars. No street. And even when he pushed on the air he couldn't walk through it.

"Kurt, stop."

Kurt rounded on Blaine who was standing behind him on the path.

"Let me go, Blaine!" He shouted.

"It's not me, Kurt!" Blaine's eyes were sad, but Kurt didn't understand.

"What's going on?" he demanded.

"You can't go home," Blaine's voice was shaking. "You haven't been home for a long time."

"What are you talking about?" Kurt was starting to feel sick and his head pounded.

"Think. Just think. Do you actually remember the last time you were home? Or at school? When was the last time you went to school?"

"Today," said Kurt, his voice wavering as he started to cry. "I was there today."

"But can you remember it?"

Kurt thought but no matter how hard he tried he couldn't remember school. He was there. He thought he was. But all he could remember was the graveyard. He didn't understand. He couldn't understand. It was like there was a block in his mind. A door and behind it was something horrible he'd been refusing to look at.

"Kurt?"

Kurt's hands were on his head. It was pounding so hard. The noises, and the flickering lights, and his mom was there as the car started to swerve and then Kurt was flung into the window.

"Kurt."

Kurt looked up at Blaine who was still standing there. The wind had died down and everything was unnaturally quiet.

"Kurt, I need to show you. I'm sorry. I'm sorry, I didn't want you to know. But you need to see."

Kurt nodded and followed because there was nothing else he could do. Nothing made sense and all he could manage was to follow Blaine's pale form like a beacon. Then for the hundredth time they stood in front of his mother's grave.

"Read it. Read all of it," said Blaine.

"I have," said Kurt pitifully, his eyes already raking over his mother's name. **Elizabeth Hummel**.

"Read _all_ of it."

The pounding in Kurt's head was almost unbearable as he looked at the headstone trying to will himself to see what Blaine wanted him to see. Then slowly his vision shifted and it was like he was seeing for the first time. His eyes scanned down and the truth shook him like one of the leaves on the trees.

**Elizabeth Hummel**

And right below it...

**Kurt Hummel**

It was like everything was falling apart and being put together at once. His head spun as he realized he'd been ignoring everything. All this time and he hadn't even realized the gaps in his memory. But now… now he knew why he could see Blaine. He knew why the groundskeeper never listened to him. He knew why his father never looked at him or held his hand.

"Kurt, I'm sorry."

Kurt looked at Blaine. The sun was setting now and he could see all the colors shining straight through the ghost boy, obscuring him. He was barely there at all.

"Kurt… I'm sorry… I didn't want you to know…"

Kurt looked back down at himself, realizing that even though he couldn't see it, that's how he was too. That was Blaine saw him. A bit of mist. Almost nothing. Barely there.

Tears fell from his eyes and he curled up on himself as he started to cry. He was dead.

"Kurt."

Kurt's head jolted up has he heard his name spoken. The voice was familiar, but it wasn't Blaine's.

"Kurt, darling, it's time to go."

Kurt turned and in the last dying rays of the sunset he could see his mom. She was misty and transparent like Blaine but her smile was big and she was as beautiful as Kurt remembered. He bolted up and over to her. He half expected to run right through her but to his surprise he collided with her warm and solid legs. She laughed and her fingers ran through his hair as he pressed his nose into her hip.

"We have to go now, okay?"

Kurt smiled up at her. "Okay," he said. He took her hand and they began to walk. But then Kurt stopped and looked back.

His eyes scanned the graveyard. The light was dimming now and everything was a bit hazy. But finally he could see what he was looking for. Two white eyes peeking out behind a tree. The ghost boy. The boy who was all alone. Who had no one to take him away.

Until now.

Kurt reached out his hand.

Blaine emerged from his hiding place and came over slowly. Kurt kept his hand extended and open, waiting. Blaine reached him and held out his own hand. He hesitated before grasping Kurt's.

And for the first time Kurt could actually feel Blaine's fingers between his own. He smiled tearfully at Blaine and Blaine smiled back.

Then, linked together, the three of them walked away.


End file.
